Raine's expression was thoughtful. "Morgan asked me once if Luke had ever been in combat. When I asked him what he meant, he explained that Luke had 'old eyes,' like someone who'd seen too much suffering or been terribly wounded himself. Or maybe both. Since I'd never seen that in Luke myself, I laughed it off—until now."
"He swore the letter I'd written him had followed him from rodeo to rodeo. Maybe it had. By the time he came back I hated him too much to care."
"And now?"
"Now we have a professional relationship, nothing more." She reached for a slice of pizza and took a bite. Then, like the good hostess she'd trained herself to become, she smiled brightly and changed the subject.
* * *
As Luke let himself into his house on the hill, his back was a solid sheet of agony. He had just hit the exit ramp closest to his place when the hospital had beeped him. Because he'd seen too many accidents caused by idiots trying to drive and punch out a number on a cell phone at the same time, he'd pulled into the nearest strip mall to return the call.
Marlene Gregory's vitals had begun to fluctuate. Though he wasn't on call, Marlene's frantic husband had insisted that the attending doctor call him in to check her over. The problem hadn't been serious, simply a fine-tuning of the meds they were pumping into her, but it had taken a good three hours before he'd felt comfortable leaving her.
Now he craved sleep, but he knew he'd never drop off with his back in a tangle. Heat usually helped, especially a long soothing soak in the oversize tub with the built-in Jacuzzi jets.
Moving slowly, like a has-been rider with more scars than sense, he walked through the silent rooms to the bathroom off the master bedroom. The early-afternoon sun cast a lemony glow through the long frosted window, but his mood was anything but sunny.
Holding his breath against the stab of pain he knew to expect whenever he moved, Luke leaned over the oversize tub to stop the drain and turn on the water.
After adding a full carton of Epsom salts, and while the tub filled and steam rose to fill the bathroom, he went into the adjoining bedroom to strip down, returning buck naked to perform the slow stretches the head of physical therapy had prescribed for him. By the time he shut off the water and flipped on the jets, the steam was as thick as hot fog, running like tears down the slick white tile and turning his skin damp.
Jaw locked down against the pain, he slowly inched his aching body into the churning water. Gripping the handrails, he eased himself back until the pulsating water was aimed directly at the bunched muscles.
Little by little the knots unraveled and the worst of the pain eased. He was tired, he realized, and the hot steam was making him sleepy. Because his eyes wanted to close, he let them. Immediately his mind turned to her, as he knew it would. As it had since the moment he'd seen her name on that chart in his office.
His sweet sunny Maddy Sue, with her bubbling personality and eager willingness to offer a scruffy semi-loser unquestioning love. At eighteen he hadn't had a clue how rare that kind of love really was. Hell, he'd hadn't had a clue about much of anything important in this life. Like loyalty and trust and keeping promises.
He'd been raw for a long time after he'd found out exactly how irresponsible he'd been. After he'd left her house, he'd spent months trying to forget. Slamming into bars with a chip already on his shoulder and his eyes peeled for the toughest SOB in the place, riding horses that no one else would take and, on one memorable occasion, shoving his way into a turf brawl between rival biker gangs. Anything to force a fight so that he'd have an excuse to use his fists. He'd lost track of the times his nose had been rearranged, his ribs busted and his knuckles bloodied. Crazy as he'd been then, it had been easier dealing with a faceful of blood than the remorse that had been eating him alive.
It had taken him a good year before he'd gotten disgusted enough with himself to clean up his act. By that time, though, he'd seen the inside of a half dozen local jails and had been well down the long slide into the gutter.
He'd talked his daddy and stepmom into letting him come home and enroll in high school again. He'd been a nineteen-year-old junior with lousy study habits and a bellyful of remorse, trying to cram two years into one. He'd nearly quit a dozen times, but every time he thought he couldn't handle the humiliation or the hard slog of studying one more minute, he thought of Maddy, alone and scared, being kicked out of school and losing her friends one by one. When his fellow students had laughed behind his back when he fumbled an easy question in class, he'd imagined her holding her head high as she walked along the streets with her big belly, pride her only friend.
Worst of all were the times he walked through the halls and heard the lilt of a young girl's laughter or seen the sassy swish of tumbled blond hair. He'd ached then with the kind of pain no drug can touch. The kind that had had him riding Cochise for endless punishing hours until they'd both been dripping sweat and breathing hard. And then he'd walked the exhausted horse home, his leg muscles burning from the long punishing miles and his eyes stinging.
It had taken him years before he could look himself in the eye when he shaved and not be ashamed of the man staring back at him. He'd tried to remake himself into a man Maddy could respect, even if she would never love him again, tried as hard as he'd ever tried anything in his life. His first few years in college had been an exercise in patience and sheer willpower. He'd hated going to classes, hated bending his will to the professors', hated the long tedious hours of studying.
Somehow he'd gotten through it. Every day since, he'd tried to be the best man he could be for that same reason.
More than anything he wanted to start over with her, but he couldn't, and he felt like a prisoner doing hard time.
Shifting restlessly, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It scared him some to think what might happen if he relaxed the rigid control over his emotions. It scared him more to realize just how easily he could fall in love with her again.
One slip, one mistake, one lapse in judgment because he was thinking like a man in love, instead of a physician, and she could lose that precious baby. Worse, she could die.
His gut twisted with fear, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Please, God, he prayed with silent anguish. Please don't let me fail her again.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Mondays were always hectic, jammed with patients who'd had problems over the weekend and had to be shoehorned into the office appointment calendar. Consequently Luke was running almost forty minutes behind by the time he slipped into room four, where Maddy was waiting for him to conduct an ultrasound. Several of his colleagues shared a tech who conducted the tests, but he preferred doing them himself to minimize the chances of missing something important. And yeah, because he never tired of seeing the little ones nestled inside their mamas' tummies. His own private reward. And, he realized now, part of his punishment.
"Looks like you called it, Mama. It's a boy, sure enough."
The baby was curled into a cozy little ball, but as Luke moved the wand over her belly, the little guy gave a protesting jerk, then stretched out, one hand punching out toward the intruder. Belligerent little dickens, he thought with a surge of raw affection.
"He's so perfect," Maddy whispered, her heart in her voice. "And … bigger already." Her eyes shone with tears of happiness, and he felt his throat close. It stunned him to realize he wished with all his heart this was his child he was watching.
"Looks like he's got him a temper," Esther said softly, watching the screen.
Luke stole a few moments to enjoy the baby's antics before attending to business. While Esther and Madelyn discussed names, he took a series of pictures. Finally satisfied, he allowed himself to watch Maddy as she studied her son with something akin to awe on her lovely face. No wonder he'd fallen in love with her on the spot. It hit him, then, what he'd just admitted. What he'd fought against admitting all these years. It had been too scary at eighteen to accept, this need he felt to be wi
th her. At forty it was hands-down terrifying.
"Luke? Is something wrong?"
It took him a moment to realize he was standing frozen, staring at another man's child swimming around in her belly. He shifted his gaze to her face.
"Seen enough?"
"No, but I know you're busy." She took one more quick look at the screen before he lifted the wand from her belly. "How does it look? The fibroid?" she asked as Esther wiped the gel from her skin.
"It doesn't look any bigger, which is the good news. It's still there, which is the not-so-good news." He turned off the machine and collected the Polaroids. "Give me a few minutes to look them over and we'll talk in my office."
* * *
Maddy exhaled slowly. Relief was making her a little dizzy. "I can't believe it. The myoma's actually getting smaller." She forced her gaze away from the two photos she'd been comparing, the one she'd brought with her and the one Luke had just taken. He'd circled the fibroid on each. Even with an uneducated eye she could see the difference. Doc, who thought the fibroid would get bigger, was wrong, she thought. Happily, wonderfully wrong. Or was he?
"Should I be excited?" she asked Luke.
His eyes crinkled behind the scholarly glasses. "Encouraged."
"But this is positive news, right?"
"Very positive."
"So it's safe to celebrate?"
"As long as that celebratin' doesn't include heavy lifting or dancin' on tables." His mouth slanted briefly in a smile as he opened a file drawer to pull out several sheets of paper. He selected one, passed it over. "This is the diet I recommend. You're okay on weight, so just keep doin' what you're doin'."
She scanned it quickly, then sighed. "Only one cup of coffee."
He smiled again. "And no chocolate."
That got her attention. "Sadist," she muttered.
"Yeah, I know. Being the bad guy is part of my job."
"I don't think you're a bad guy, Luke. Just the opposite, in fact."
After giving her a startled look, he handed over another sheet. "Here's a list of warning signs. I expect you to call immediately if any of these show up." His gaze pinned her hard. "And I do mean immediately, Maddy. Day or night. If I'm not in my office, my service can always reach me."
"You're my doctor. I'll do anything you say."
He nodded, all business. The man with soft eyes who'd watched her baby on the screen was gone. "No heavy lifting, no horseback riding, rest when you're tired, let your body regulate your sleeping, get as much fresh air and sunshine as you can. I prefer that you walk for an hour a day, instead of working out, though yoga's okay." He hesitated, then glanced down, his face blank. "Sedate sex is permitted, with a considerate partner."
Just like that, she was hot all over. Even though there wasn't even a hint of anything more than professional briskness in his tone, her body was suddenly alive and … lusting.
But it wasn't any man she wanted, she realized with a sharp jolt of dismay. It was Luke's body she wanted to feel thrusting inside her, hot and hard and potent, his big hands she wanted to feel caressing her swollen breasts. His exultant cry she longed to hear mingling with hers when he took her to a place she'd found only with him. Denial shuddered through her, followed by an emotion she realized was desperate longing.
"I'm not interested in sex with any kind of partner, Dr. Jarrod." She iced her tone in hopes of icing her mind.
It was anger now simmering in those blue eyes, and she wondered if he had a temper. From the hard set to his jaw and the dangerous line of his mouth, she suspected he did. When he spoke again, the steely edge to his voice confirmed it.
"That wasn't an offer, Mrs. Foster, only information." He slapped her folder shut and got to his feet. "Call me if you have a problem. Otherwise I'll see you in one week."
Without waiting for an answer he tucked her chart under his arm and walked out.
* * *
Dr. Morrow's receptionist sounded perky and young, no more than eighteen was Luke's guess.
"Yes, sir, Dr. Morrow's expecting your call," she said after he'd stated his name and his reason for calling. "Please hold."
Expecting to wait, he was surprised when Morrow came on the line almost immediately.
"Dr. Jarrod, I appreciate the call, especially so soon." Though as rough as Texas grit, Morrow's voice was surprisingly soft-spoken. "How's Madelyn doing?"
He shifted his gaze to the two ultrasound photos arrayed side by side atop Maddy's chart. "Better than she thinks."
"Guess I'm not following you, son."
"You went to a lot of trouble to convince Madelyn she needs a high-risk specialist when we both know she doesn't."
"She has a submucous myoma, which could present a very grave risk to both her and the baby."
"It could—if it were in a position to block the cervix, which it isn't. Or if it continued to grow, which it hasn't. In fact, it's gotten noticeably smaller in the three weeks between ultrasounds. Even though she'll need careful monitoring, there's every reason to believe she'll have a normal pregnancy and a normal delivery."
"Now that's something I couldn't know for sure, which is why I set up the consult."
"Consult, my ass. It was a referral. She came to me as a new patient, scared to death because you convinced her she was going to lose that baby."
"No, sir, I told her no such a thing. She was already as jumpy as beans on a skillet, workin' herself into knots. You must have read about her preeclampsia." His sigh was heavy. "I blew that one, son. Just plain missed it. This time I wasn't about to take any chances, so I laid out the risks and my own reservations about my ability to treat her properly, which to my mind is exactly what the Hippocratic Oath requires me to do."
Luke actually squirmed at the mention of the oath he'd made it a point to memorize. So far he hadn't crossed the line, but he'd come within a razor's edge. "If you were worried, why didn't you send her to Baylor for a real consult, then have Marston or Wong monitor her progress long distance?"
"Well, you know what they say about hindsight bein' twenty-twenty."
"Hindsight my ass. During her first pregnancy she had two sub-myomas, both of which had shrunk to half their original size by the end of her second trimester, a fact that I suspect you failed to mention to her."
Morrow chuckled. "Danton always claimed it was well nigh impossible to fool you. Looks like he was right."
Luke sat up so quickly his back screamed. "You want to explain that?"
"Not much to explain. Dan Stone and I were in the same fraternity at Texas Tech. He went on to Stanford Medical, I went to Houston, but we kept in touch. Once, over drinks at a conference in San Francisco about fifteen, sixteen years back, he told me about a student of his who went rodeoin' every summer to pay his tuition. Guess you can imagine how surprised I was when he mentioned your name."
"I have some idea." It wasn't often he got sucker punched, but Morrow had done a damn good job of it.
"Claimed you were the most conscientious student he'd ever had. Driven to be the best, he said. Like a man with something to prove. He also told me about the spill you took the summer of your second year and how you did one semester in a wheelchair and the next on crutches. Said you were strapped for cash and he was worried you'd have to drop out. Wouldn't take his money, he said, so he arranged a loan from a fund we both contribute to."
Luke felt a jolt of anger, an even stronger jolt of hurt that the man he considered a role model and friend had been spreading around his private business to strangers. "Is there anything he didn't tell you?" he asked sarcastically.
"Impossible to say since I have no idea of what all he knows about you. What he did say changed around a few things in my mind, which is what's important."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Guess you call it personal redemption. The way you turned yourself into the kind of man I'd be proud to call my friend. It made me wonder if I was wrong to encourage Maddy to give up that little one for adoption."
>
The shock that shot through him had his pulse pounding in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. "I thought it was her parents' doing."
"It was, in part." Morrow's sigh was disturbingly heavy. "But she would have held out if I'd offered to help her. All through her pregnancy and even after the baby was born, she kept saying you'd come back to marry her. That in spite of all the garbage folks were spilling all over your name, you were a decent man who would take care of her and the baby. Even when she was screaming in pain, she was saying you hadn't abandoned her. To my everlasting regret, I convinced her she was wrong."
Luke hadn't lost his temper in years. He didn't intend to lose it now. So he eased back and took a couple of deep breaths. "I should kill you for that," he said calmly. It surprised him some that he meant it.
"If I thought it would change the past, I'd hand you the gun."
"I don't need a gun."
"I kinda figured that would be the way of it." Morrow cleared his throat. "You asked me why I sent you Maddy when she doesn't need a specialist. Maybe she doesn't medically, but she does need you. Very desperately, in fact. And I think you need her."
The truth made Luke surly. "Bull," he spit out, wishing he had the energy to hit something.
"What are you now? Forty? Forty-one? And never married. Not even close, according to Danton."
Luke felt something give in his jaw. "My private life is not up for discussion, Morrow." He put a cold warning in his voice that few men had ever dared challenge.
"Now Maddy, she did marry of course," Morrow went on as though Luke hadn't spoken. "Almost had to if she wanted to hold her head up in this town again, though I tried to encourage her to take a job someplace else. She's loyal, though. Claimed her mama would miss her, though God knows Rebecca Smith doesn't have a loving bone in her body."
Recalling the wintry eyes that never once warmed, even when they lit on her daughter, Luke had to agree. "Maybe Maddy loved Foster." The words came out hard and tasted lousy.
"Wiley Roy Foster's a cold fish who damn near sapped all the life out of her, though thanks to that vein of sweetness she never lost, he didn't quite manage to turn her into a repressed bigot like himself. Worst of it is, he's also a damned hypocrite, running on about being a role model to his students, even when I was treating him for a venereal disease he picked up in Juarez."
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